It was such pleasure, such unbelievable, powerful, bone-juddering pleasure. The wee, tight muscles inside my slit gripped so hard, trying to keep him inside the whole time, begging him, with their grip, not to pull out. He pushed harder. It felt like his whole body was a muscle, was a penis, getting exactly what it wanted from me, from my womanly form. His hands were everywhere suddenly, over my back, on my buttocks, in my mouth, on my breasts, holding tight, pressing me down to the chair as he fucked me, made me his. He pumped harder and harder, pushing my pussy apart with his sweet, huge instrument.
‘I’m yours,doctor,’ I moaned. ‘Do what ye want with me.’
I felt him shudder as I said this, and he pumped harder.
Suddenly, I felt something else on my pussy. It was Mother Superior’s tongue again. She licked around the doctor’s cock as he continued to slide in and out me, expertly finding the wee spots of pleasure around my entrance which not even I knew where there. She moaned again and I felt the vibration of her lips against my cunny. I felt wild and free, happier than I’d ever felt before in my life as I started to move as well, in time with the doctor’s thrusts, squirming around so that Mother Superior hit just the right places. The doctor moved harder and harder, moaning, groaning, straining to get in and out of me and then I felt it, this build up of tension in his cock, it seemed to pulse with a liquid, throbbing energy. He was depositing his seed in me!
The thought of this powerful man impregnating me drove me over the edge. In a fog of lust and passion, I felt my own climax building inside. I screamed loud and groaned as my body tensed and tightened. My pussy pulsed in time with the last few spurts of semen from his cock, and I looked up over my shoulder.
‘Doctor, what have ye done?’ said Mother Superior.
‘It couldn’t be helped,’ said the doctor, ‘the pleasure was too great.’
‘That’s the first time ye’ve put yer seed into one of the lassies.’
‘Yes,’ said the doctor, ‘but it won’t be the last time I put my seed in Chastity.’
I smiled, and felt good. Suddenly the whole world seemed to be open to me. I thanked the Lord for my sin.
Hungry for more?
KEPT BY THE LAIRD
When hot and fiery eighteen-year-auld Liliya Boyd is tauld she is to become the perverse and powerful Laird of Argyll's newest possession, she is horrified.
The Laird is known for his cruel and domineering sexuality, and Liliya is to be his vulnerable plaything. However, soon Liliya begins to learn that the Laird's lusty personality is awakening something inside of her, and she becomes more than a wee perverse herself...
An erotic exploration of the dark side of nineteenth-century Scottish sexuality... for mature audiences only.
—————
THE BLACKSMITH’S DAUGHTER
When the naive yeng blacksmith's daughter, Catherine MacBride, encounters a mysterious stranger in a Scottish tavern one evening, she is far from prepared for what happens next.
The dark, handsome, and severely strict Duke of Leamington, is a rich Scottishman with inexpensive tastes. For he is a man who can buy anything, and soon the cheap yeng blacksmith's daughter belongs to him.
When the blacksmith consents to sell his daughter to the Duke of Leamington, however, he does not realize just what the Duke wants with his wee lassie. And how far he will go to get it.
This dark, powerful, erotic, historical romance will awaken yer deepest desires.
———
THE LAIRD’S NEW BRIDE
Eighteen-year-auld Caitlin is not impressed when she discovers her scoundrel father has agreed to marry her off to the infamous Laird of Elgin without her consent. His reputation among polite society is scandalous, and there are rumours of his perversions all over Scotland.
After a difficult beginning however, Caitlin soon realises that the Laird's powerful and commanding presence might be just what she's been looking for. She may even find that being the Lady of Elgin has some satisfying benefits.
An erotic exploration of pleasure and pain in the perverse world of nineteenth-century Scottish sexuality.
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The arrival of the Laird was the talk of the entire estate. I had everyone from the cook to the stable lad ask me whether I was excited, or nervous to be meeting my new husband. I gave the same answer to everyone who asked: ‘We’re not merrit yet, and he mightnae even like the way I look, so let’s not be too eager to call him my husband, shall we?’
On the morning of his arrival, I sat in my chamber as I always did in the early part of the day. I opened once again the wee box which contained the dress that the Laird had asked me to wear for his inspection. It was a quite ludicrous garment, more befitting of a set of underwear than a proper lady’s attire. It was a short, frilly thing, with wee straps over my shoulders (which would have been on complete display if the dress was the only thing I would be wearing). The skirt of the dress was so short that it barely reached my knees, and it was so puffy that it stuck out from my body almost at right angles.
I’d come up with a bit of a trick. The Laird had of course requested that I wear the dress for his inspection, but he hadn’t stipulated that I was not to wear anything else as well. So, I decided that aye, I would wear the wretchedly ugly wee thing, but that I’d wear an overcoat as well, so that my entire body wouldn’t be on display for him. Of course, my father had been in to my chamber to make sure that I was wearing the dress, but he’d since gone out to collect the Laird, who apparently had since arrived. I looked at the opulent surroundings of my bed chamber If the Laird was happy with me, soon I’d be living a different life, somewhere else, somewhere cold and dank and drookit up north. I mean really, it rained enough in the Highlands, without having to move up to Elgin! Mainly, though, I hoped that the rumours of the Laird’s cruelty were overstated, and that he wasn’t as much of a cruel beastie as everyone seemed to say. I mean, nobody could be that bad, could they?
I pulled on my overcoat, and sat on the bed waiting. Finally, after what felt like hours, I heard a deep, rumbling voice outside my door, saying a few words. Then, the door handle turned and a figure stepped in.
He was taller than, I think, a man had any right to be, and dark as well. His kilt revealed more of his legs than my father’s did, and I could see the thick, study trunks of his thighs creeping below the tartan fabric. I suddenly remembered what those filthy old hags had said about the Laird’s ‘sausage’, and couldnae help my eyes from trailing down to his sporran… just in case I could catch a keek.
The Laird didnae seem as old as I’d imagined a Laird to be. He can’t have been that much older than forty years or so. He had hard, dark eyes, which sat in a slim, hard face, and his lip, underneath a thick, shiny moustache, had a cruel curl to it. I noticed that he was scarred, just as the rumours would have had me believe; an ugly, ragged wound ran up from his chin to his forehead. Maybe it was for that reason that his mouth curled the way it did. Maybe he was trying to smile. I wondered the scar had been caused by the dagger in his own sock… Perhaps an angry wench grabbed the dagger and sliced his face one day… Perhaps I would do the same one day in the near future.
‘I see that ye have a twisted sense of humour, lassie,’ he said. His voice was deep, and coarse, like the bark of a hunting dog which had just smelled a kill.
‘I…’ I started to say, but I felt a shiver of a blush start in me.
‘Would ye kindly remove yer coat, so that I may conduct my inspection of ye, young lassie? I’m a very busy man, and I must say that you havenae made a particularly good first impression.’ He stood with such authority, such mastery of his surroundings that it almost felt as though I were in his chamber, not the other way around. I felt a surge of blood pump around my body. He was certainly a commanding presence, that was for sure.
‘Of course…’
He held up his
hand. ‘For the time being, it would be proper for ye to address me as yer excellency,’ he said.
‘Very good, yer excellency,’ I said. His expression, as I stood and started to remove my coat was completely unreadable. If he was impressed, he certainly wasnae letting on. The coat dropped to the floor, and I twisted a little, left and right, letting him see the naked flesh of my legs, my shoulders, the start of my cleavage.
‘Braw,’ he said, ‘the dress suits you fantastically.’ I felt a sudden, unexpected rush of happiness to hear him give me a compliment. I couldnae believe that a man as stern as this might like me. ‘O’ course, the way you have yer hair is utterly inappropriate. I hope that ye dinnae think a haircut like that would be acceptable should I take ye as my wife.’
‘No, yer excellency, no–’
He again stopped me in mid-sentence. ‘Ye need to dress yer age, Caitlin. Ye are a young lassie, barely out of girlhood, are you not? We need to preserve this youth for as long as possible, do we not?’
I found the certainty and authority with which he spoke to be quite intoxicating. I’d never met a man like this. He made my father seem like a glaikit wee wean.
‘Aye, sir, we do,’ I said, blushing bright under his gaze.
He took a step closer, and looked straight at me, straight into my heart, into my soul.
‘Has any man ever touched ye, Caitlin,’ he asked. ‘Doon there?’ He looked down at my groin and then back up at my eyes. ‘Has anyone deflowered you? It is important that I know. If you lie to me, I will find out.’
‘No, your excellency, no-one. I am a maiden still.’
He bowed deeply, took my hand and kissed it.
‘Thank ye, and I apologise for the coarseness of my questions.’ Then, he turned and left my room. I didnae hear anything from the Laird for a month.
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